


Storm Chasers

by GwendolenFairfax



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Blood and Violence, Different Powers, Explicit Sexual Content, Falling In Love, I'm Bad At Summaries, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Powers are not the Point, Tragic Romance, World War II, suppressed homosexuality
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-09-30 20:49:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17230970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GwendolenFairfax/pseuds/GwendolenFairfax
Summary: 1942: James “Bucky” Barnes is a man who has no direction in life. In an attempt to find it, he joins the army to fight for... something - he isn’t sure what for exactly. He also has issues and secrets. Issues and secrets that he desperately tries to keep to himself. When he meets Steve Rogers, the captain of his company, Bucky sees a silver lining on the horizon for the first time in his life. However sometimes, a silver lining on the horizon is a harbinger of a storm.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I got the idea for this story by watching the famous "But I knew him"-scene far too often and while researching anti-Nazi propaganda Disney cartoons. Bucky is referring to one of these cartoons in the beginning of the story in case you are confused. 
> 
> Furthermore:  
> \- I'm no native speaker unfortunately, just a lover of the English language. So errors will occur, although I try my best to avoid them.  
> \- I'm no expert when it comes to World War II and the US army, but I try my best to research as much as possible.  
> \- If you feel like a tag is missing, please let me know.  
> \- I have the story planned out already. Just have to write it. XD  
> \- Please comment! Feedback and constructive crticism are great!
> 
> Also:  
> Be warned, this story is tragic!

When Bucky threw up for the third time, it occurred to him that all of this was Donald Duck’s fault. He retched drily into the gutter that connected all the open toilet stalls right and left of his, he smelled urine, feces and his own vomit and swore to himself that he would never watch a Walt Disney cartoon ever again. He swore by his knees that hurt from squatting in front of the toilet for so long. He swore by the snot that was running from his nose. He swore by his stomach that cramped because there was nothing left in it. The ship below him cared little about his oath and lurched about relentlessly. And how right the ship was, because really, it wasn’t Donald’s fault. It was his for falling for a cartoon of a duck marching eagerly into war. Of course it was his.

“Dear Lord.” He groaned and sat back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. And it had seemed like such a good idea at the time. Had seemed like the perfect way to drag himself out of the mire of disorientation and purposeless wandering. “Join the army, serve your country, defend freedom!” If Donald Duck could do it, so could he, right? He could be useful, he could be a real man, he could find a meaning in his darn life. He hadn’t even crossed the ocean yet and had already failed at being a real man. Not a Nazi, but a little seasickness had already brought him to his knees. Essentially, Donald Duck was more capable than he was. He laughed mirthlessly. Mostly at himself. Seemed like the only thing he was really good at was failing.

 _No_ , he corrected himself almost defiantly while trying to control his nausea with deep breaths. He was also a passable dancer. More than passable if he was being honest with himself. He wasn’t blind. He saw how people looked at him when he was dancing. How they only focused on him rather than on the lady in his arms. But really, dancing wasn’t getting him anywhere in life. It wasn’t practical, it didn’t pay any bills, it didn’t make his parents proud, it didn’t give his life any purpose. It was just the only thing he truly enjoyed. God, he was so miserable!

“Pull yourself together, Barnes,” he muttered and gnashed his teeth. He knew he had this bad habit of brooding, of doubting, of almost debating internally. And he hated it. Hated himself for it. Because it was deviant and he just couldn’t stop it. No matter how hard he tried. It was a constant reminder of how weak he was. He took another deep breath and stood up slowly.

He wasn’t the only one failing though. Not that it helped, it was just a fact. Two stalls to the right, another private was also puking his guts out. Bucky hoped that he hadn’t noticed him, hadn’t seen his failure. It was enough that he himself knew. _No more failing now!_ He squared his shoulders resolutely, turned around and washed his hands in the metal sink. He splashed water on his face and rinsed his mouth. He tried to make himself presentable by running wet fingers through his short hair and straightening his uniform. Then he put a chewing gum in his mouth and marched towards the bunks, fighting the shaking of his legs. Nobody - _nobody!_ \- would see how weak he actually was.

  
\---

  
Bucky knew that he was also bad at making friends. He could be witty and charming if he wanted to. But most of the times he just didn’t want to. However, the private in the bunk above his made it near impossible for him to not socialize. 12 rows of bunk beds, three bunks each. Enough to hold 36 soldiers. And of course Bucky had been allotted the bunk below his. James Montgomery Falsworth. “But you can call me Jimmy. Or Monty if you fancy it.”

At first, Bucky had tried to ignore him as best as possible. Short answers, no eye contact. But Jimmy just didn’t get the hint or he chose to disregard it completely. He just kept on talking... and talking. And without wanting to, Bucky slowly began to listen. Jimmy was full of peculiar anecdotes - especially about his Great Aunt Emily. And he had a way with words that made his talking unignorable.

“Hey, James!” Bucky was lying in his bunk, reading, when Jimmy’s face appeared above him. “Can I hear your uncompromisingly honest opinion on a very important matter?”

Bucky darted him a short glance and huffed. “No, but you gonna ask me anyways.”

Jimmy laughed and just leaned further over the edge of his own bunk. “True, my friend, very true. So,“ he twirled the sides of his well-groomed mustache between his fingers, “you see this immaculate mustache, don’t you?”

Bucky sighed and lifted his eyes from his book again. “Yeah, it’s hard to miss.”

“I’m delighted that you noticed. Now, do you think I should abandon it?”

Bucky looked down again and shrugged.

“Come now! That can hardly be all! Tell me what you think!” Jimmy twirled his mustache more insistently.

Bucky sighed, longer this time, but finally closed his book and put it down. Then he looked at Jimmy, really looked at him for essentially the first time. Dark blue eyes below strong bushy eyebrows the same light brown color than his short wavy hair which he had strictly parted on the side. It took Bucky five seconds to make up his mind. “Keep it. Makes you look like one of the Three Musketeers.”

Jimmy grinned. “Oh là là! So like a dashing French fellow? Not exactly what I was trying to achieve. However, still good enough! And cheers! I will forever be thankful for this invaluable insight!”

Bucky rolled his eyes. Meanwhile Jimmy jumped off his bunk and sat down next to him, which forced Bucky to draw up his legs to make room. He took a deep breath. As usual Jimmy didn’t seem to notice Bucky’s indignation and looked at the book. “So, what are you reading?” This obviously meant he wouldn’t leave Bucky alone. Another sigh escaped his lips and he picked up the book and passed it to Jimmy.

“Oh! A classic! “Gulliver’s Travels”. Hmhm. I’ve never read it. You know, my Grand Aunt Emily always says that a classic is a book which people praise and don’t read.”

“Mark Twain.” Bucky pulled a cigarette from the pack.

“Pardon me? I think you are mistaken, my friend. The author is Jonathan Swift!” Jimmy raised the book and pointed at it.

Bucky lit the cigarette and propped up his elbows on his knees. “Your grand aunt is quoting Mark Twain. He wrote that.”

“Oh,” Jimmy put the book down, “I wasn’t aware. My, my, James,” he grinned, “I have to admit I didn’t take you for the bookish type.”

Bucky took a drag on his cigarette and tilted his head to the side. “What type did you take me for then?”

For the first time since he had met him, Jimmy seemed to be embarrassed. He looked to the side, hesitating, but then he answered nevertheless. “I assumed you were more the athletic type.”

“So sporty, but a little dumb?” Bucky said as flatly as possible, although what he actually wanted to do was smile. Every time Bucky was around people, he was afraid. Was afraid that they would immediately see through him, that they would detect his true nature. Jimmy hadn’t and that made him happy.

Jimmy looked up again, guilt written all over his face. “I am sorry that I misjudged you, my friend. Although being sporty and a little dumb isn’t all so bad I reckon.”

Bucky grinned and nodded, then he clamped the cigarette between his teeth. “Don’t worry.” He extended his hand to Jimmy. “You can call me Bucky by the way.”

  
\---

  
“So, Bucky,” Jimmy said between spoonfuls of stew, “135th if I am not mistaken?” He had to speak up. The mess was droning with the noise of talking and clattering of plates and cutlery.

Bucky nodded. “2nd Battalion, Company B.”

Jimmy’s face lit up in a broad smile. “Me too! We’re real brothers in arms then!”

Bucky wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about being Jimmy’s “brother in arms”, but his line of thought was abruptly interrupted by the black-haired private who sat next to them.

“Company B? You lucky ducks! That’s Captain Rogers’ company!”

Bucky remained silent, eating his stew, but Jimmy was hooked immediately and turned his full upper body around to the private. “What is so special about Rogers? Do tell, my friend!”

The black-haired private, an eager-looking fellow in his 20s, made a spacious gesture, spoon still in hand. “Everything! You see, he’s from Brooklyn and he’s practically a legend there! He’s the local hero!”

“Now, now!” Jimmy raised a skeptical eyebrow. “I’m afraid that sounds a little bit exaggerated.”

The private shook his head vehemently. “No exaggeration! When he was 12 years old, Captain Rogers confronted two thugs that were about to mug old Mrs. Williams. He actually managed to talk them out of it! And when he was 14, Captain Rogers saved a girl from drowning!”

Although Bucky was still eating his stew and didn’t participate in the conversation, he listened closely. The private enunciated the words “Captain Rogers” almost reverently. Bucky doubted that anyone on this planet deserved such awe.

“That sounds very impressive indeed!” Jimmy said meanwhile while still looking skeptical. “But how do you know all these stories?”

The private smiled openly. “I’m also from Brooklyn. The girl he saved is my older sister.”

Jimmy’s doubtful expression cleared up and he clapped his hands together. Then he looked at Bucky. “So the man IS a legend! Then we are lucky ducks indeed, Bucky!”

Bucky shrugged. “I don’t believe in legends.”

Jimmy clicked his tongue chidingly and opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, the black-haired private chimed in with a serious expression in his brown eyes. “You don’t have to believe in legends to believe in the man. His company hasn’t lost a single soldier yet. That should say it all!”

Jimmy threw his hands in the air and looked back at the private. “So not only is Rogers a hero, but he’s also a capable captain. You have convinced me for sure. Just ignore this grumpy naysayer!”

Bucky rolled his eyes and picked up his empty bowl and cutlery wordlessly.

Jimmy and the private did the same. That didn’t stop them however from continuing the conversation about the incredible Captain Rogers. Bucky sighed.

“Also,” the private lowered his voice slightly, “he married the most beautiful lady in all of Brooklyn.”

Jimmy laughed. “So not only is he a hero, but he also has a way with the ladies.”

Bucky doubted that he would become a fan of Rogers.


	2. Chapter 2

They landed on the north coast of Ireland mid-May. Bucky closed his eyes and enjoyed the sensation of solid, unmoving ground under his feet. Even if he had managed to overcome his seasickness for the second half of the passage, he knew that traveling by ship would never be a favorite of his. He heard someone say they were close to a city called Londonderry, but they never saw it, because the division immediately began marching south.

Ireland was cold and wet and Bucky was glad when they arrived at the newly constructed training camp in the middle of nowhere two days later. At least he assumed that it was the middle of nowhere. The thick forest around the camp made it impossible to say for sure.

The major part of the division had already arrived in February, so the newcomers had to cut across the whole camp to get to their sleeping quarters. They passed a small wooden church, several bigger wooden cabins, but mostly rows and rows of big half-cylindrical steel huts before a quartermaster assigned them beds in one of them. The inside of the hut was plain. Several lockers on the sides, two coal furnaces at the entrance and more rows of bunk beds. And of course Bucky and Jimmy shared one. Which was alright. Bucky had almost gotten used to Jimmy. Annoyance flashed through him however when he noticed that Raymond, the easily impressed, black-haired private, had gotten the bed next to them.   

After they had put their sparse belongings into the lockers, Bucky, Jimmy and Raymond began exploring the camp despite the constant drizzle. They found the football field and the all-purpose recreation building which was next to the officers’ club. Bucky propped up his elbows on the railing of the field while Jimmy and Raymond started discussing the last football season. He stared across the field which was full of mud holes and rough bumps. Would be hell to actually play football here. Bucky itched to get out there, maybe even just to run a few rounds. The passage had left him tense and restless. Forced inactivity, no room for roadwork. He squared his shoulders and murmured, “Will run a couple rounds.”

“Now? It’s raining, my friend! And we haven’t even seen the rest of the camp!” Jimmy gave him a pat on the back. “This glorious football field won’t run away anytime soon. You can always come back.”

Bucky tightened his grip on the railing and took a deep breath. “It’s always raining.”

Jimmy fell silent for a moment, then he said, a smile in his voice, “Very true, my friend, very true. Well, do what you must!”

Bucky glanced at Jimmy over his shoulder and pulled a corner of his mouth into a half-smile, then he jumped across the railing.

He was about to start running when he heard Raymond whisper, “Hey, hey! Look, look, that’s him. That’s Captain Rogers!” He looked back at Raymond and saw him gesture towards the officers’ club. Then he turned his eyes to where he pointed.

The officer’s club was 70 maybe 80 feet away, but Bucky could see well. And although there was a group of officers, he instantly knew which one Raymond meant. A man in his 30s, captain’s uniform, visor cap in hand, Bucky’s height, broad shoulders, honey blonde hair parted at the side, strong eyebrows, square jaw, Bucky could even see his blue eyes and the long lashes. He knew he was staring. _Damn, pull yourself together!_ But he was unable to stop it. He made a step towards the railing and tilted his head to the side. Jimmy and Raymond were saying... things, Bucky didn’t hear what, he just kept staring. Weird tingling sensation in his neck and his stomach. Then Rogers turned his head and looked at him. Their eyes locked.

Bucky felt a weird sense of inevitability. A tremble ran through his body. Then Rogers smiled at him softly. At the same time he felt himself smiling back, a sudden wave of confusion, anger and arousal rushed through him. He turned around and ran.

\---

The running didn’t help like it usually did. Bucky didn’t know how long he had been out there on the football field, but when he came back to the sleeping quarters, it was dusk and he was soaked to the bone. And the confusion and the anger and the arousal were all still there.  Jimmy and Raymond were playing cards on Raymond’s bed, but he could feel their eyes on him when he went to his locker wordlessly to fetch his spare uniform. He changed, then he walked over to the bed with his wet clothes. 

He started to hang them out to dry on the wooden rails of the bed. Jimmy remained untypically silent, Raymond however turned to Bucky. “So, great guy, right?” There was no doubt who he was talking about.

Bucky shrugged and carried on with his task.

“I mean you haven’t even really met him yet, but my sister says he is even more charming in person.”

Bucky hung his boxer briefs over the railing.    

Raymond laughed. “I swear she thought they were destined to marry after he saved her. Carol cried for a week when he picked Peggy Carter instead.” 

“Now, now, my friend, eyes on the cards. It’s your turn!” Jimmy interposed loudly.

“Oh yeah.” There was a brief pause, then Raymond added, “Well, of course she is happily married now. But every now and then she talks about Captain Rogers and then her eyes get dreamy and...”

Bucky gasped out “Shut up!” without turning around, the wooden railing of the bed creaked under his hands. Raymond fell silent. Bucky let go of the railing, looked at where his hands had splintered the wood, grabbed his cigarettes off his bed, muttered “Will go for a smoke.” and marched towards the exit.   

\---

_Damn. Goddamn!_ Bucky smoked several cigarettes, staring into the dark sky, listening to the noises from inside the hut until they died down. He took his time in the restroom barracks. He smoked another cigarette. When he finally entered the hut again, everybody, Jimmy and Raymond included, were already in their beds. He changed into his pajamas quietly and got into his. And then he was lying there, staring into the dark.

He had joined the war effort for many reasons. One of them being to get away from... _this_. The _urge_ , the _desire_. To substitute it with something meaningful, something important, something where he could prove his worth. _Something normal_.

During the passage he hadn’t felt _it_ , despite all the men around him. So he had thought that maybe there was hope for him, had believed that he had finally defeated _it_. _I’m a goddamn fool!_ He had tried to change several times before. He had dated girls, he had denied himself any kind of sexual pleasure, he had talked to a priest. He had tried things he didn’t even want to think about because they were just as devious as _it_. Nothing had worked. And this time he honestly hadn’t even tried to change, he hadn’t fought against _it_ , he had just evaded. Of course that wasn’t enough.

And he HAD to change. He just couldn’t feel like this for the rest of his life. _I can’t!_ He pressed a fist into his stomach. _Pull yourself together!_

When the pain became unbearable, he relaxed his arm and took a deep breath. He would fight. _I WILL change!_ Steve Rogers was right there. He was Bucky’s trial. His opportunity to gain control of himself.

The image of Rogers appeared in his mind’s eye. _His smile..._ Bucky groaned quietly when he felt himself getting hard. _I will fight!_ He pinched himself until he nearly screamed, then he pressed his face into the pillow and recited the Constitution in his mind until he fell asleep.

When he woke up the next morning, the pajama pants between his legs were still damp.

\---

Fighting something meant confronting it. When Bucky entered the mess for breakfast, Jimmy, who fortunately hadn’t said anything about last night’s incident, next to him, he immediately looked around the busy hall for Rogers. No Rogers at the officer’s tables, but then Bucky spotted him sitting at one of the tables for the regular soldiers. There were even some unoccupied chairs next to him.

Bucky squared his shoulders, took a tray and hurried to the serving counter. He didn’t pay attention to the private who served him oatmeal and coffee, he didn’t check if Jimmy was following him or not, he just stared at the table where Rogers was sitting. As soon as he had his food, he marched over. He was halfway to the table when Rogers lifted his head and started looking at him. Bucky didn’t give himself the opportunity to hesitate but sat down right in front of the captain.

“Good morning, Sir.” He put down his tray and looked straight at the other man.

Rogers returned his look and the skin around his eyes crinkled as he smiled, softly again. “Good morning, private.” His voice was deep and smooth.

They held eye contact for a moment. Finally Rogers tilted his head quizzically and Bucky pressed his lips together. That’s when Jimmy called attention to himself. “Good morning, Sir. May I sit here?”

Rogers blinked and looked up. “Good morning, private. Yes, of course, have a seat.” He gestured to one of the unoccupied chairs.

“Thank you, Sir. Private James Montgomery Falsworth.” Jimmy bowed his head in greeting, then he sat down next to Bucky.

“Pleased to meet you, Private Falsworth,” Rogers replied with a smile.

Bucky tore his eyes away from Rogers’ face and stared down at his tray. He gave a start when Jimmy kicked his shin below the table. When Bucky looked at him in confusion and anger, the other private gestured silently with his chin towards Rogers. Bucky wrinkled his brows, but then...

He sat up and looked at Rogers again. “Sorry, Sir. Private James Barnes.” He forced his mouth into a smile.

The captain gave a small laugh. Warm and genuine. “No worries, Private Barnes. Nice to meet you.” He picked up his cup and took a sip of coffee. His blue eyes drifted from Bucky to Jimmy and then back. “You arrived yesterday as part of the reinforcements, right?” Rogers knew they did, he just asked to be polite.

Jimmy nodded, Bucky ate a spoon of oatmeal.

„Did you have a smooth passage?”

“I think you would know if we didn’t,” Bucky mumbled before Jimmy could open his mouth. He lifted his eyes from his oatmeal and looked at Rogers without raising his head. From the corner of his eye he could see Jimmy staring at him.

Rogers returned his look calmly and remained silent for a moment. Then he smiled. “That is true, Private Barnes. But how did YOU like the passage? That’s something I don’t know.”

Bucky sipped at his coffee. “Didn’t like it at all.”

Rogers continued to look at him. “Why?”

“Too unstable.”

Rogers laughed. “I know the feeling. The swaying sure is horrible. When I came here, I was sick for the whole duration of the crossing.”

Bucky lowered his eyes onto his oatmeal.

“Did you come here with the first half of the division, Sir?” Jimmy asked when the silence began to stretch out uncomfortably.

“Yes. Well, not here exactly. The Brits needed a hand in Libya in February. So part of the 135th, Company B included, was sent straight to North Africa to reinforce the Eighth Army. We left Libya not long ago to come here.”

Bucky noticed that Rogers’ voice dropped in pitch ever so slightly and he glanced at him. His blue eyes were cast down and his jaw was tight. Bucky cleared his throat. “You’re not happy about that, right?”

Jimmy kicked his shin again, but he ignored it.

Rogers blinked and looked at Bucky, his eyes slightly narrowed. Bucky wasn’t sure if he would get an answer, but after a moment, Rogers leaned forward forcefully. “No, I am not happy that we left. They need us there now!” His voice was clear and passionate. But one second later, he sighed and rubbed his forehead. “But we need time to make a strategy. And the men aren’t ready yet.”

Bucky noticed that he was staring again. He forced himself to look down and began to stir his oatmeal mindlessly just to give himself something to do.

The captain took a deep breath, then he downed his coffee. “Speaking of training... I need some of that as well. So I better get going.” He stood up. “Private Barnes, Private Falsworth, it was nice talking to you. Have a good day.” He looked at Jimmy, then his eyes came to rest on Bucky.

Bucky felt the tingle in the back of his neck again, but he managed a thin smile and got up when Jimmy did.

“It was our pleasure, Sir.” Jimmy bowed his head. “Have a nice day!”

\---

On the way to the training ground, Jimmy placed a hand onto Bucky’s shoulder. “Bucky, may we have a word for a second?” Bucky looked at him, lips pressed together, then he gave a curt, reluctant nod. Jimmy pulled him into a narrow gap between two huts.

He leaned forward so that he didn’t have to raise his voice for Bucky to hear his words. “Bucky, are you out of your mind? You can’t talk to a senior officer like that!” He raised both hands in a gesture of consternation.

Bucky crossed his arms in front of his chest. “He didn’t object.”

“You know that that’s not the point here, my friend. It’s still disrespectful behavior.  I assume that you had a good reason for joining the army. It seems rather silly to risk a bad-conduct discharge now. And you would be lucky to only be discharged.”

Bucky tensed his jaw and stared at his boots. After a moment of silence, he nodded. “You’re right. It’s silly.”

“More than that. I will be honest with you, my friend.” Jimmy sighed. “It was also unfair. Captain Rogers seems to be a very decent man. I’ve never seen you behave disrespectfully towards any other senior officer. I don’t understand why you would start now with Captain Rogers of all people.”

Bucky decided to lie. Of course he did. “I don’t know either.”

Jimmy fell silent. Finally he patted Bucky’s shoulder and grinned crookedly. “I have to admit that I’ve almost grown fond of having your surliness around me all the time. So I’d rather not see you getting arrested.”  

Bucky had to grin. He looked up. “All right, I’ll treat all senior officers, Rogers included, with all due respect.”

“It’s CAPTAIN Rogers!” Jimmy laughed. “My friend, you are a hopeless case!”

\---

And from then on Bucky did his upmost to be polite and respectful towards Rogers. He stood up when Rogers entered a room, he bowed his head in greeting and said “Sir”. But he didn’t get the opportunity to prove his civility in a conversation since Rogers generally seemed to prefer the tables reserved for the officers.

Which also made it difficult for Bucky to confront _it_. And it frustrated him, because in other regards, he was still a hopeless case. The training began. Hours and hours of running, drill, target practice and strategy meetings. But no matter how exhausted or tired or busy he was, the same thing happened over and over again.

He breathlessly crawled through a puddle of mud, one of the last elements of the obstacle course, water and sweat running down his face. He saw Rogers standing at the end of the course, encouraging the soldiers with loud shouts. And a shiver ran through his body.

He was standing on the outside shooting range, firing at the wooden silhouette targets with his pistol until the magazine was empty. He lowered his pistol and put the safety catch on. When he turned around, his eyes fell on Rogers talking to another captain. And his heart rate increased.

He sat in the training center where a colonel was giving a strategy lecture about the terrain in Tunisia, but instead of listening, he found himself staring at Rogers with a smile, his penis half erect.

And he always felt angry and confused and thrilled at the same time.

Bucky almost didn’t persevere through the rest of the lecture. When the class was finally dismissed, he rushed to the restroom barracks, went into the shower room, stood under a showerhead and turned on the cold water. The room was empty. He pressed his forehead against the cold tiles, breathing heavily, while the icy water made his skin prickle painfully.

His erection disappeared instantly, but still all he could think of was Rogers. His smile, his blue eyes, his deep voice, the warm sound of his laughter.

And then the confusion disappeared and Bucky realized it was far worse than he’d expected. It wasn’t just desire, wasn’t just his body reacting to some devious carnal need. _I love him_. He sat down under the cold water and cried.


End file.
